by Sarah Spade
Because Max is her brother, she’ll be careful not to ask for too many details, but I know my friend. She’s going to want some.
And what do I tell her?
Gee, Dani, I gave it all up to Max and, wouldn’t you know it, he decided to confess his feelings for me. And, okay, maybe I feel the same way about him, but instead of facing him in the morning, I snuck away.
I can’t tell her that.
Wrapping the sandwich in a bunch of paper towels from the bathroom, I hide it in the bottom of my garbage. Then, careful to cross the office when Dani’s bowed over her computer, I find the office manager.
Winnie purses her lips when I tell her I’m taking a half day since I’m not feeling so great. She doesn’t deny me, though. The queasy look on my face must have sold it for me. I promise I’ll finish all of my current accounts by Monday, Winnie signs off on my PTO, and I head out without Dani noticing.
I don’t go home. I doubt Max is still hanging around, but I’m not ready to face my parents yet, either. I was lucky that they were fast asleep when I slipped out this morning. Dad left my car key on the coffee table for me. I snatched it before running out the front door.
Instead, trying to get myself under control, I get into my car and start to drive. At first, I have no idea where I’m going when I get a stroke of inspiration. It might not be the smartest move considering my history with the place. I don’t care. It seems perfect to me.
I walk into the Grand Crown Taproom ten minutes later.
Despite the fact that it’s barely three o’clock, it’s much busier than it was the last time I came by. Christmas decorations are everywhere, garland strung along the bar top and lights winking from every window. The television hanging near the bar is turned on. It’s not Rudolph playing this year; it’s the animated version of Dr. Seuss’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas.
The Grinch. How fitting.
The guy tending the bar is new. I haven’t been inside the Grand Crown since last Christmas Eve—the memory of finding and subsequently losing Nick made it difficult to go back—so he could have been working here for a while. I’ve never seen him before, though.
He’s… different from all other bartenders I used to see here. He’s much older, for one. With his snowy hair and thick white beard, he’s gotta be in his sixties at least. Underneath the Grand Crown apron, he’s got on a bright red sweater and black pants. His dark eyes are bright and warm, with laugh lines etched in his worn face.
Just as I take a seat at the bar, my phone rings. I almost decide not to answer it, since there’s a good chance it’s one of a handful of people I’m trying to avoid. If I know who’s calling, I’ll feel guilty about ignoring them.
Great. Now I have to look.
Glancing down, I see that it’s Dani. Yup. I already feel guilty. She must have discovered I left the office.
I bite down on my bottom lip, hesitate, then let out a sigh. I swipe, then place the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Allison? Where are you? Are you home?”
There’s a frantic note to her voice that has my already upset stomach tightening. “Um. No. Not yet. Why?”
“I went to your desk and you were gone. Winnie said you went home because you weren’t feeling well. Did something happen with Max?”
I don’t like the way she jumped to that conclusion. It’s the right conclusion, but still. “I think I had some bad shrimp at Frinz last night or something, Dani,” I lie. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Why? Did, uh, did Max get an upset stomach too?”
“No, but maybe he got cold feet.”
“What do you mean?”
“He just sent me a message. He’s sitting in the airport, waiting to catch the next flight back to California. He’s decided to fly home and he’s going back tonight.”
“What? Max is leaving?”
Dani keeps talking. I’m barely listening. My head is stuck on what she just told me. So maybe I am the one who snuck out this time around. It was cowardly, I know that. I just… I never thought his answer would be to run to the airport.
Just like he did last year.
I think I interrupt Dani. I’m not sure.
“He got called back for another work emergency? Is that it?”
Dani lets out a frustrated snort. “No, Allison. He told me he’s leaving Salem because there’s no one who needs him here.”
“But you—”
“Trust me, my brother wasn’t talking about me.”
No. He’s talking about me.
Whether or not he meant what he said, Max Dennis said it—and my reaction was to slip out while he was sleeping. Of course he doesn’t think I need him. Or want him. I never told him I did.
And now he’s leaving.
“Dani, I… I gotta go. I’m sorry. Would you—do you think you could tell Max I’m sorry to him, too?”
“You can tell him yours—”
I jab my thumb against the end symbol on my screen. Tell him myself? No. No, I can’t do that.
My phone immediately starts ringing again. I set it from sound to silent before dropping it to the bottom of my purse. Sorry, Dani.
As soon as it’s clear that I’m not on the phone, the bartender approaches me again. He tried to greet me when I first sat down, moving away when he saw I was busy. Now he smiles.
“Good afternoon. What can I get you, miss?”
I glance at his name tag. Etched on the bronze-colored strip is one name: Kris. Lifting my gaze, I see he’s watching me with a touch of concern.
Hmm. I think Kris might be a bit of an eavesdropper.
A flash of a memory hits me. I remember telling Max last year that it’s silly to sit at a bar without a drink. I try to work up a grin, sense it’s more of a grimace, and order, “Strawberry margarita please. But make it a virgin.”
He nods, then disappears to make my drink. A few minutes later, he comes back with my margarita and sets it down on a Santa-themed coaster in front of me. He doesn’t move along to the next customer, though.
“I couldn’t help but overhear—” Called it! “—the conversation you had with your friend. Is everything okay?”
I don’t know what it is about him. There’s something… I can’t quite put my finger on what, but something. Even though the words It’s fine are halfway to my lips, it’s not what pops out.
“No. It’s not.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?” When I don’t answer him right away, he smiles big enough for me to see the red apples of his cheeks. “You can tell me. I’m a great listener.”
That’s true. Bartenders usually are, in my experience, and it’s not like anything I could say could surprise him. At least I’m sober.
I take a sip of my drink, satisfied that it’s non-alcoholic and that I’m going to stay that way. It’s hard enough for me to think straight without getting drunk, even if it seems like a pretty good idea right now.
Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “Max left.”
Now, this guy—Kris—doesn’t know who Max is. How could he? All he has is my half of the conversation with Dani to go on, and the fact that I probably look like my heart is breaking. And that’s because it kinda feels like it is.
Just sex?
Yeah frickin’ right.
Still, Kris is working for his tip because, wearing an empathetic expression, he says, “Why did he leave?”
At least I know the answer to that. “Because I was afraid,” I admit.
“What were you afraid of? Happiness?”
“What? No.”
“Joy?”
“Who can be afraid of joy?” I wonder out loud.
His dark eyes twinkle. “That’s what I was trying to figure out, Allison. Okay. It isn’t happiness. It isn’t joy. What about… love?”
That simple question is like a jolt to my achy heart. I don’t even have to answer.
Kris nods. “It’s love.”
He’s not wrong. As crazy as it sounds, to think I could be in love with a man I’ve only known
for two days, I can’t deny the fact that I’m totally head over heels for Max Dennis. I’ve been that way since last Christmas Eve when I gave him my heart and he didn’t take it.
How could he? He never knew.
I never told him.
And now he’s leaving. Because I’ve been afraid. Afraid to tell him that—just maybe—I love him, too.
Pushing my drink away from the edge of the counter, I set my purse on my lap and dig around inside of it. It takes me a second to find my phone. There’s only that one missed call from Dani. Unlocking my phone, I immediately hit Dani’s name, waiting as it dials and then rings.
Answer, Dani, please.
She does, and the first words out of her mouth are angry: “Allison? What is going on with you?”
“I’m so, so sorry about hanging up,” I begin, wanting to get my apology out first. It isn’t her fault that I’ve fallen in love with her brother. She shouldn’t have to be put in the middle because it’s taken me this long to figure out what I thought I knew last year. “It was crappy and you’re my best friend and I love you. But this is important. What airport is Max flying out of? Is it still Logan?”
“Yes, I think so. Allison, I—”
“I’ll explain everything later. Trust me. Okay?”
“I guess—”
I tell her goodbye, hanging up before she can say anything else. I wait a beat, checking if she’ll call back, then take it as a good sign when she doesn’t.
There are a handful of other patrons at the bar. Kris is still standing across the counter from me, watching my second exchange with Dani with a smile. “Still afraid?”
Terrified. “How much do I owe you?”
Kris leans in, looks left, looks right, then places his finger alongside his nose. “It’s on the house, Allison.”
Okay. I pull a twenty out and slip it under my still full glass anyway.
He nods his thanks, the money disappearing like magic.
I start to leave when his voice stops me.
“Do me a favor?”
“Oh. Sure.” He’s helped me get my head on straight, whether he realizes he did or not. Plus comping my drink? It’s the least I can do. “Anything.”
Kris ducks down behind the bar. When he straightens a moment later, he’s got a bundle of black fabric in his hands. He gives the bundle a quick shake, revealing that he’s holding a jacket.
A suit jacket.
It could be one of thousands. Any number of guys in this bar could be wearing a jacket like that over their business suits.
And yet? I recognize it, though there’s no logical way I should. I saw it once, almost a year ago, lying on the stool I’m currently sitting on. When Max—who had just told me his name was Nick—sat here, nursing a rum and Coke, down to his sleeved shirt and an undone tie.
“When you see him again—and I know you will—please make sure Max Dennis gets his jacket back. Lost and found can get crowded sometimes and, well… do you think you can you do that for me?”
I nod, accepting Max’s jacket. It might only be in my imagination, but I swear it smells like him.
“You’re a nice girl,” Kris muses, picking up a rag and wiping down the counter as I climb off of my stool, holding Max’s jacket close to my chest. “You deserve a special gift in your stocking this year.”
“Um. Thanks?”
“I hope you get it. Merry Christmas, Allison.”
“Merry Christmas,” I echo.
Kris nods and, with a cheery smile, turns to finally top off a lager for a woman at the other side of the bar.
It isn’t until I’m in my car, heading out of Salem with Max’s suit jacket lying neatly on my passenger’s seat, that I stop to wonder about that last exchange.
How did Kris know that it was Max’s jacket? Or that I would recognize it? Or that he was the man I was talking about?
How did Kris know Max’s last name?
Wait a sec—
How did he know my name?
I shake my head. You know what? I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.
And, because I can’t make it make sense, I let it go.
Come on, Allison. It’s time to return Max’s suit jacket.
It starts to flurry on my way into Boston.
The traffic’s already awful. I manage to plunk myself in the middle of the rush hour mess, when the streets are as good as a parking lot. The snow is just the icing on the cake. No true Massachusetts native bats an eye at a simple dusting, but it’s close to Christmas and there are enough tourists and out-of-towners to make this a disaster.
If only it was a true storm. I check my phone, hoping for a surprise nor’easter, something that will keep the planes grounded. By the time I make it to Logan Airport, Max could be halfway to California.
It’s dark as I struggle to find a spot to park my car. I end up paying some outrageous rate but I’m too busy panicking as I hand over my credit card. Snatching the receipt out of the attendant’s hand, I start hurrying toward the entrance.
On my drive over, I get Dani back on the phone. She doesn’t have any more details about Max’s abrupt decision to leave, though she understands his motivation when I finally break down and tell her—almost—everything that had happened.
I don’t know what shocks her more: the fact that her brother said he loved me, or that I shyly tell her that I think I feel the same.
Dani gets over her shock quickly. She’s determined to keep Max around if only for my sake—except he’s not answering her. His phone keeps going to voicemail. I try not to think that it’s only doing that because he already has it on airplane mode.
She gives me his phone number and tells me to try. She says he might be blocking her calls. If my number pops up and he doesn’t recognize it? Max might answer it.
I really hope so.
My only hope is that he’s still in the airport—and that he hasn’t gone through security yet. I don’t have a ticket so there’s no way they would let me in. If he’s already waiting on the other side, either on the plane or getting ready to board, I’m screwed.
At least I’ll know I tried. Little good that’ll do, but I have to try.
Max’s number is saved in a text. My finger trembles a little as I hover over the link. It’s my only chance. Logan Airport is too big for me to even think about searching it. I need Max to answer the phone and then I can find him and prove that I’m here.
Here goes nothing.
I press the number, then select call. The numbers dial—I hold my breath—and then it rings. Okay. That’s a good sign. It didn’t go straight to voicemail. It’s ringing.
Something catches my attention. I lower my phone so that I can check to see if I’m imagining it.
No. I’m not.
Over the cacophony of the evening travelers, I can just about hear the soft, muffled chimes of a phone not too far ahead of me.
I swing my head in that direction, my heart racing when I see a tall man with unruly black hair lifting the phone up to his head.
I do the same.
Please, please, please.
“Hello?”
“Max!”
I don’t speak into the receiver. No need. I shout and watch in frickin’ delight as Max drops his phone to his side, turning slowly as if he’s not sure that I’m shouting for him.
I see the moment when he realizes it’s me. His eyes go wide in surprise, his mouth forming a word that I’m pretty sure is my name; I’m not close enough to hear it. Clutching Max’s jacket, holding tight to my phone, I push past the people milling around and run toward him.
Max doesn’t move. By the time there are only a few feet—and the blue rope of the stanchion keeping him in the security line—separating us, his handsome face has closed off. “Allison,” he says, his gruff voice neutral as he gives absolutely nothing away, “what are you doing here?”
I asked myself that the entire time I was stuck in traffic.
“I know you have to go back to California, an
d I know that it would probably never last and who knows if we could pull off a long distance relationship, but I can’t let you get on that plane without at least offering to try.”
His expression softens. “What made you change your mind?”
“You did. When Dani told me you were flying home, I realized I wasn’t ready for you to go.”
Ducking under the rope, Max steps out of line.
“I didn’t want to leave. I was talking to someone earlier—” He lets go of the handle of his suitcase, waving his hand. “It doesn’t matter who. But he got me thinking. Life’s not always about what I want. It’s about time I thought about someone else for once. And you… I didn’t want to leave. I just… I guess I thought you wanted me to.”
“No!” As if we haven’t already attracted an audience, my shout has a couple of more heads turning to watch us curiously. My cheeks are on fire, my heart thumping wildly, but I keep my gaze steady. I only have eyes for Max. “No,” I say again, softer this time. “That’s not what I wanted at all.”
“Then what did you want?”
Moment of truth. Last Christmas, Mary was bold. Isn’t it Allison’s turn?
“You,” I tell him again. I take a deep breath. “Because I might just be in love with you, Max.”
The tiniest of sexy smirks tugs on his lips. “Might be? That’s okay, I’m willing to work hard to turn that it into a definitely. Kinda like I definitely love you, Allison.”
I go to throw my arms around his neck when I suddenly remember the jacket I’m clutching in my hands. I switch it to one hand, then give it a shake so that he can see what I have.
“Max, look!”
Probably not the reaction he was expecting after his declaration. But I told Kris I would give it to him and why not? If anything, it’s a memento from the first night we met. It’s only fitting he get it back tonight.
He blinks, a strange expression dancing across his face. “Is that my jacket? The one I forgot at the bar last year?”
I nod, beaming up at Max. “Kris made me promise I’d give it to you when I saw you again.”
“Kris?” He shakes his head, letting the suit jacket tumble to the floor before reaching for me. “Forget it. It’s not important.”